Prologue I – Rebecca Amell.
"Ow!" I cried, having just been roughly shoved by a Templar, who was 'escorting' me to the Harrowing Chamber. In case the name wasn't giving it away, I was on my way to being Harrowed, which was yet another step to becoming a 'proper mage'. Of course we (being the mages) were not told what 'Harrowment' was, other than it was harrowing. I was never fond of the word harrow. It didn't make much sense. Harr-ow.
"Excuse me," I asked the cranky Templar "Can you tell me what's going to happen during my harr-ow-ing?" I took special care to drag the word out, to emphasize how little sense the word made. I received a glare in return. "Soooo, is that a no then?" I asked. "Shut up mage," the Templar growled, "Or I'll shut you up!" Oh. He was one of those Templars. To me, there were three types of Templars: 1) Nice Templars. There were some nice Templars, who didn't believe that mages were a Blight on Thedasian purity. Cullen was a nice Templar, but he did give me odd looks now and again. 2) Crazy Templars. There weren't a lot of crazy Templars in our tower, but they were there. They tended to shake a lot, and were known to ask some of the Senior Enchanters for lyrium. I was never sure why they did that. A few of the apprentices had theories. Anders said that the Templars were trying to siphon off the mages lyrium, so we would be less capable of standing up to the Templars. Jowan laundered under the impression that the Templars were fond of the smell. I however knew the real reason, thanks to Cullen. Cullen told me that Templars used the lyrium to enhance their powers, but it had the unfortunate side effect on non-mages of being addictive. He had asked me to keep it under wraps, and because he was type one, I acquiesced. The final type of Templar, Type 3, was most prevalent in the tower, the oppressive type. These Templars were brainwashed by the Chantry, the Chantry was the true institute of Andraste, mages were evil and had to be supervised so that we didn't create a second Tevinter Imperium, and that if you weren't an Andrastean, you would suffer in the Void for eternity.
With another shove, I was pushed into the Chamber. "Magic exists to serv-" someone began, but I wasn't really in the mood for some more Chantry nonsense. "Yeah, yeah, yeah." I interrupted, "Mages are evil yada, yada, yada. What do I do now?" First Enchanter Irving looked a little bit miffed, and Knight-Commander Greagoir went red. I'm sure it's his favourite colour. His skirt is red, and whenever I speak, he goes that colour too. "Rebecca," Irving intervened before Greagoir flipped, "you should not speak of the Chantry like so." I rolled my eyes, and proceeded to scan the room. I spotted a stand in the middle of the room, filled with lyrium. I noticed one of the Templars staring at the stand (or his bucket pointed in that direction). I snorted, and then saw Cullen, whom I waved at cheerfully. "MAGE!" thundered Greagoir, "DO NOT BE SO IMPUDENT!" I ignored him as always, and turned to face Irving. "So I touch the bowl, right?". Irving nodded. "I'm guessing I'll be sent into the Fade then, with that amount of lyrium!". Irving nodded again. "What happens then?", I inquired. "You have to fight the demons in the Fade, child." "All of them!" I yelled." It was Greagoir's turn to roll him eyes. "No, Mage, you just have to not die, or be possessed." He sneered. "Good luck child," Irving whispered to me, "And remember, everything is not as it seems in the Fade."
"Right then," I grinned, "Off to the Fade then. See you later Beetroot!" I waved at Greagoir, and skipped over to the bowl, and stuck my hands in. One of the last things I saw was a Templar trying to inch over to the bowl for some of the lyrium. Then I slipped into unconsciousness.
When I woke, I was in an odd brown, hilly area, with an odd statue, and some pots. Remembering the events from before, I deduced the area to be the Fade. I was torn between continuing through the hills, and examining the pots. Curiosity and common sense battled for dominance, and eventually, curiosity won out. I strode over to the pots. "Ohh, potions!" I exclaimed. I love potions. One of my mentors, Wynne, was a Spirit Healer. She told me that a Spirit Healer needed to be very skilled with alchemy, so we could create healing potions for use. Wynne was my teacher for Spirit Healing, and Alchemy. There were a few other people in Wynne's class. There was Anders, a tall man with a ponytail, with a love for fleeing from the Circle, Petra, a young woman who was a marvel with children, and Maura, a young, studious elf woman, who was quite the social recluse. Wynne confided in us that we were the pride of the Circle for Spirit Healers, even Anders, who somehow managed to score top marks in his tests having missed all of his classes, and myself, even though I spent quite a lot of my time antagonising Templars.
I found some pockets, and pushed the potions into the pockets, and continued on my way. Fortunately, there was a path for me to follow. "How convenient!" I remarked. However, not even a minute into my trek through the hills, I was confronted by a mouse. I shrieked, and jumped back, creating a Glyph of Paralysis as I did so. I hated mice with a passion. However, the mouse resisted my Glyph. Suddenly, one of Irving's lessons popped into my head. "When a creature resists a Glyph of Paralysis, and appears to be harmless, then the creature is either possessed, extraordinarily powerful, or disguised." I was able to rule out possession, as mice don't exist in the Fade, and extraordinary power, as mice aren't powerful. Or in the Fade. There was only one conclusion. "Demon, demon, demon, oh crap!" I instinctively raised my hands, made a gesture, and trapped the mouse in a block of ice. I then proceeded to run away. After a few minutes of running, I came to a halt. Hopefully the demon would have been left behind. I put an extra oomph in my ice spell, to keep the demon trapped for as long as possible.
Suddenly, I felt a jolt. I whirled around, and saw something that looked like a fluffy cloud. It was so pretty. Then it fired out a bolt of electricity. I dived to the side, and simultaneously casted a Glyph of Paralysis. Then I concentrated, and froze the creature. Immediately after I saw the creature freeze, I made a gesture and fired off an Arcane Bolt at the creature, which then dissipated. "Hah!" I jeered "Shocking, wasn't it!" Then I grimaced. I realised I had just made a terrible pun, and taunted something that was dead. That probably didn't say any good things about my state of mental health. I continued on my path, for a while, and encountered another cloud. I quickly repeated my actions from before, and as before, the creature shuffled off the mortal coil.
I then noticed a hill with what looked like a glowing Templar beside a fire. Wonderful. The Templars even haunted the bloody Fade. However beside the glowy Templar, was some kind of weapon rack which held a bow made out of fire, a wooden sword, and a shield made from grass. I raised an eyebrow, and approached the Templar, hoping he would be Type I. "Good afternoon, ser!" I began "Do you have any staffs with you?" The Templar looked at me, and said "Do you believe this swords to be made of metal, these bows of wood and these-". I frowned at the Templar "But the sword is made of wood, and you appear to be burning the bow!" The magical Templar (lovely irony) didn't say anything for a while, probably confused, poor thing. "You dreamers are an odd sort." He said, "I had another dreamer, with a ponytail, tell me that the bow was melting, and that I was a naked woman." Naked woman, and ponytail? Anders! "You don't look naked to me," I began, "But more like a Templar. Anyhow, do you have a staff I could use? I could use the extra help." The Templar hesitated. "If you prove yourself worthy, through combat, I shall grant you a staff." I grinned. "Excellent! When do we start?" "Whenever you wish, dreamer." I raised my hands, hopped back, and declared "We shall start now!"
The Templar charged at me, but I quickly created a Glyph of Paralysis. While he was trapped, I ran up to him, and kick him in the groin. Sadly, my leg soared through his body, and thrown off balance, I fell through his body. Then my Glyph wore off, and the Templar turned, and stabbed my arm. "Ow!" I shrieked. "You bloody prick!" I raised my arm, and conjured a ball of ice, which I threw at his head. It struck his helmet, and he staggered back. I froze him into a block of ice, and made a ball with my hands, which I slowly expanded, with a fireball being created. I then hurled the ball at my ice statue, knocking it off its feet. I closed my eyes, and summoned my magic, and funnelled it into my arm, healing the wound created by the creature.
The Templar staggered to its feet. "You are exceptionally powerful, dreamer. Here is your staff." The Templar held out his hand, and a staff made out of green jewels appeared in its hand. I grabbed the staff, and glared at the Templar. "Thank you for the staff, but I'm still angry about you stabbing my arm. Please refrain from stabbing me in future." The Templar nodded, and vanished in a puff of smoke, leaving the fire it created, and the weapon rack.
By now, I was sick of the Fade, and stormed back to the fiery plain. "Show yourself, demon! I'm going to rip you a new MOUTH!" With my words, a peanut shaped blob with arms, that appeared to be on fire pulled itself out of the ground. I shuddered. I hate peanuts. "What manner of demon are you, burning peanut thing?" The demon halted. "PEANUT? DO NOT COMPARE ME TO YOUR PITIFUL FOODS, MAGELING!" Hmm, it seemed angry, rather like Greagoir. What were the sects of Demons again? There was Pride, Hunger, Desire, and the other two. I mentally cursed. I could never remember the other two. The Demon interrupted my train of thought. "I AM A DEMON OF RAGE, MAGELING!" I remembered that Rage Demons were rather low in the order of things, rather like Apprentices in the Circle. Hopefully, it wouldn't be too powerful an opponent.
"YOU STUPID MORTAL FOOL! HOW DARE YOU COMPARE ME TO YOUR DISGUSTING CREATIONS. YOU DISGUSTING LITTLE BI-" I interrupted the Rage Demons tirade with my standard starter, a Glyph of Paralysis. Because the Demon had been so rude to me, I wasn't going to play nice with him. I immediately followed up with two ice-balls to the eyes. I twirled my staff, and slammed it into the creatures face. I noticed that my Glyph was beginning to wear off, and I covered the ground around the demon with a layer of ice. My Glyph wore off, and the demon oozed forward, but instead of tripping, like I had planned, the creature melted the ice around it, surrounding it with water. The Demon slashed me across the chest, drawing blood. I screamed, and froze the Demon by freezing the air around it. I summoned my magic, and healed the wounds across my chest. My vision was blurred, and I was breathing heavily. I decided to drink one of the potions I had found earlier. Immediately, my vision cleared up, and I stopped breathing quite so heavily. I was furious. I lifted my staff, and stabbed the creature through the midriff. Instead of pulling my staff out, I let go of it, and conjured a sphere of fire in one hand. I threw the sphere at the demon, which melted the ice, and immediately concentrated my mana into my hands, and unleashed a stream of electricity. As I had hoped, the water had covered the Demon, and acted as a conductor for my lightning, and electrocuted the Demon to death. Suddenly, everything went white.